Of Pink and Marshmallows
by this SHIP of FOOLS
Summary: This frickin' awesome story is scorrose and T rated for cursing Domi! You naughty girl, cursing in french AND english! tut tut tut. Prompted from the Lush Challenge on The RoseScorpius Fans Forum.
1. Think Pink

**C'est my disclaimer: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER.**

**SO.**

**YEAH.**

**This fic is from a challenge on RSF that I forgot about and after a really long time I wrote it. (it was Passive Aggressive's Lush challenge I do believe.) There will be two other ones, both based off of the same prompt because I had two ideas and so stuffilliness.**

**Don't know what RSF is? It's a forum for RoseScorpius Fans, and it's epically awesome!**

**Also, these fics aren't in any order, as they are inspired by prompts. They don't really follow my headcannon or anything, so I would have no reason to post them in chronological order, as I did for my Audercy/Paudrey fic so. **

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**_THINK PINK_**

"Rose! Rose, we have a… er… slight problem." Dominique said, wincing.

"Well, it's not _my_ wedding. Talk to Victoire about it." I said, blowing a strand of unruly hair out of my eyes.

"That's the thing. See, I'm afraid my life would be in danger if I did." Domi hissed.

"What?" that got my attention. Nothing would go wrong with Victoire's wedding, _nothing_, and _Merlin help us_ if something did. "What happened?"

Victoire was having her wedding to Teddy in three days, and the only problem so far was the bridesmaid dresses, but I'd thought we'd fixed that. We'd, luckily, found a bright blue set of long, elegant gowns that looked stunning on everybody.

"We can't pay for the dresses." Domi whispered fearfully.

"Damn." I said.

"I know! What will we do?" she exclaimed, "I am _not_ wearing pink!"

"Dom? Dominique! Je n'ai marre! Victoire has to know!" Louis said in a panic.

"What? Why?" Dom asked.

"She has to pick out the new dresses!" Louis said, exasperated that Domi hadn't thought that far.

"What?" she asked, confused, and then, as realization dawned on her face, "Oh, right! Shit."

A little while later, after debating whether imminent death was probable or if we would only get away with scarring, Victoire shouted,

"Dominique! Tu es très bête! Come here!"

"I'd like violets on my grave, Rose." She muttered as she stalked over to Victoire.

"Rose, come over here too!" she said again.

I sighed. "Tell Scorpius I love him," I joked to Louis, who'd adopted a rather confused expression.

"How'd she know about the dresses?" he asked.

"It might not be about them." I said hopefully, and then followed Dom over to Victoire.

"We're going to be wearing pink." She announced.

Domi sputtered, "What?" she choked in outrage.

"Pink?" I asked, groaning. "How'd you even—"

"I have my ways. Would you like to see them?" she asked, excitedly.

Dominique and I shared a look. "Sure," we chorused half-heartedly.

Victoire waved her wand and_ bam, _there they were. They weren't too bad, but I'm pretty sure Dom was cursing in both French and English in her head. They were a range of varying shades, all of the same color: pink.

"Rose, you'll be wearing this one." Victoire said, pointing to a dark, reddish pink, off the shoulder gown. It was a peach, of sorts, but it was darker than that, and the skirt faded to crimson.

"Domi… this is yours." She said, enthused, and gestured to a hot pink, sleeveless dress with a flowy skirt—the kind that if you spun around, it would flair out. It was silky, and went down to Dom's knee.

"Merde!" Dom shouted.

"Think pink, honey." Victoire said sweetly.

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**Liked it? hated it? Click that review button and let me know what you think!****  
**

**"Je n'ai marre!" means "I'm sick of this" or something along those lines.**

**"Tu es très bête!" means "You are very stupid".**

**"Merde" is the french equivalent of "shit". **


	2. Melting Marshmallows Version One

**asdfghjk I DON'T OWN IT!**

**gahhhhhh**

**LUSH CHALLENGE ETC.**

**ENJOY, MY LOVLIES!**

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_**MELTING MARSHMALLOWS**_

_**(version one)**_

"Oh Merlin Scorpius, it's beautiful!" I said, staring, awed, at the brilliance of the bonfire.

"What?" He asked, his back towards the flames.

"Your face." I said, sarcastically.

"My face is very beautiful, thank you very much!"

"Yes it is," I said, offhandedly, "When will we get the marshmallows?"

"They're right here!" He said, exasperated, waving a bag of jumbo ones around his head and turning towards me.

"Oh."

We went about, trying to reach The Goal: creating the perfect marshmallow. Sadly, this was not an easy task, for distraction came in ample amounts, seeing as my boyfriend was sitting right next to me, it was night, and no one could see us.

We had just started roasting, and one of these wonderful opportunities came swiftly. Soon, we were snogging, marshmallows forgotten, but still resting in the flames. One of us happened to look up in the middle of it, and noticed a rather odd occurrence.

"Oh God! My marshmallow's melting!" I screamed, horror stricken.

"Is that even possible?" Scorpius asked, amazed.

"Of course it's possible, you bumbling idiot! It's happening right before our eyes!" I said, then, mournfully, "My poor, poor marshmallow."

I never got to taste it's sweet, sweet deliciousness.

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**Crack?**

**ehhhh..**

**Tell me what you think? and you don't even have to be nice about it! You can flame if you want to! I don't mind.**

**If you would like to check out my poll, please click on my profile. I'd love you forever and ever! ;)**

**Thank you for taking the time to read this, and for all you reviewers (coughcoughzerocoughcough) thank you for taking the time out of your very busy schedule to review.**


	3. Melting Marshmallows Version Two

**I like this chapter much better. I'm quite proud of the imagery.**

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**_MELTING MARSHMALLOWS_  
**

**_(version two)_**

The snow glittered as we crunched down the icy road, our footprints marring the perfectly layered white. It was December, and Scorpius and I had just moved in together. We were taking a walk through the streets of Muggle London and enjoying the beauty of the cold whiteness that decorated the buildings and paved the roads. We reached a park, and entered through the rusty gate. The formerly grassy area was now glistening with fresh snow, and icicles were hanging lazily off the benches and monkey bars.

It started to snow lightly, the little diamonds decorating our eyelashes and shining like crowns on our heads. Scorpius packed a bit of fluffy snow together. Unsuspecting, his snowball hit the center of my back, thrown with perfect aim. My heavy, water impervious coat deflected it, and it splattered like a melted marshmallow on the ground. I laughed and soon, a full fledged snowball fight was in place, the kind that you only ever had when you were kids, with your whole body covered in wet, melting snow, and your coat never seemed to help because somehow, the cold whiteness always seeped through at the edges of your sleeves and at your collar.

It was the most fun we'd had in a while, and while we were walking back to our flat, snow looked completely different in our eyes than when we had first walked to the park. Now, every patch of crystalline while was a potential missile for you or your opponent, and every hill of white was an advantage against the enemy.

And it all started with the melting marshmallow of a snowball.

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**Please review?**


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